


Necessity is the Mother of Invention

by FallacyFallacy



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Community: kink_bingo, Established Relationship, Kinks, M/M, Open Relationships, Rimming, Sex Toys, Vibrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-08
Updated: 2011-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-15 12:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallacyFallacy/pseuds/FallacyFallacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having sex on a starship is hard. Conversational kinking, open relationship fluff, and hand-made vibrators, oh my! Written for Kink_Bingo for 'pervertibles'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessity is the Mother of Invention

James T. Kirk never entirely expected to suddenly find himself with a steady boyfriend a year into the Enterprise's first five year mission. And, in fact, if you had suggested to him before graduation (did he ever really graduate, actually?) that said boyfriend would have been _Spock_ he would have laughed in your face. But although it hadn't turned out the way he'd expected, he was glad for that, and Jim had little to complain about. The benefits of the situation far outweighed the negatives.

 

Which was not to say that there were no negatives at all.

 

As a rule, having sex on a starship was not easy. You couldn't just pop down to the store to buy whatever you wanted, or go online for anything more... _specific_. Once you were in space you stayed in space until you stopped at a planet, at which you may or may not be able to pop down for some shopping, and whose shopping may or may not even slightly resemble that which you might expect on Earth. Occasionally the Enterprise would go down on an Earth colony or base, but even those were often limited in supply, and apart from waiting the year or so for the next trip to Earth you had little choice.

 

And it just so happened that Jim had acquired his boyfriend not two weeks after finishing shore leave on Earth. It figured.

 

Of course, you could always try and risk it with alien goods. However, this was...well, _risky_ , to say the least. In terms of sex toys, even roughly humanoid creatures could be surprisingly different in terms of sexual behaviour or preferences, and as adventurous as Jim was with xenosex he was extremely reluctant to play with any toy more complicated than a dildo of the right general size and shape. (Which, even then, was more trouble than you might expect; apparently, Humans had unusually simplistic penis structures. Which wasn't always a bad thing, of course – he didn't think he'd ever get tired of that dildo from Nekkar II, whose peoples' penises were apparently shaped like tentacles, and the Hudoorian one with the knobs and ridges and the rotating head was nothing short of genius.) Lube and condoms might be more reliable, but Jim's experience suggested not – the last time he'd tried to mix Terran lube with an Alcorian condom the thing had melted before his eyes, and as for the Deltan lube? He tried not to think about it.

 

(Spock had only agreed because of the lengthy list of ingredients provided, which he had spent several hours cross-checking for any possible negative reactions to Humans or Vulcans. Finally when he had deemed the liquid safe and they had gotten ready to use it, Jim had stuck his fingers in only to find his entire hand covered with a rash up to the elbow. Thankfully both Bones and Spock had been too traumatised by the experience – albeit in slightly different ways – to ever bring it up again, but really, Jim was just glad the rash had spread fast enough that he hadn't gotten the lube anywhere near his dick or Spock's ass before he noticed a problem. Spock also apparently thought he should be happy the touch-telepath with the sensitive fingers hadn't sampled it, but Jim was hesitant to go _that_ far. _Damn_ , those boils had _hurt_.)

 

And both were necessary. Lube was a given, even with Vulcans' greater muscle control, but Jim honestly found himself surprised that he'd still have to carry on with condoms now that he was (mostly) sticking to one person. He always wore one whenever he slept with someone other than Spock – 'cause aliens generally hadn't the slightest idea what was dangerous or even could be transmitted to a Human, and other Humans just plain couldn't always be trusted – and so did Spock. And apart from an uncertain number of hazy encounters in his irresponsible and, well, frankly slightly self-destructive youth he always had.

 

Which, apparently, was exactly why Spock was adamant now. Jim may have been pretty careful to not sleep unprotected with anyone with a disease deadly to Humans, Spock had pointed out (somewhat optimistically, Jim had thought), but had made no such reservations about infections dangerous to _Vulcans_. He could be carrying all sorts of things that had no or limited effect on Humans but which could make Spock seriously ill.

 

“So, why don't I just get tested for everything I could have gotten?” Jim had asked with a shrug.

 

Spock gave him a withering look – the same one he saved for underperforming ensigns (or, for that matter, senior officers) and which Jim had been seeing less and less of over time. “Then if the Captain would kindly provide me a list of all the people he has had unprotected sexual contact with since becoming sexually active and all the infections each possessed the matter would be rendered quite simple.”

 

Uneasily, Jim frowned. “Uh, then anything I could have that could hurt you?”

 

Which was, apparently, a lot – it turned out that Vulcans didn't often sleep around for a very good reason, and Spock turned up at his quarters that evening with a list of no less than seventy-two separate diseases in need of testing, plus at least thirty more which could react negatively to Spock's odd genetics. “This is not, of course, a full list,” he had declared almost victoriously, “but I have many reports to sign off on tonight and believed that these would prove sufficient.”

 

So yeah, _that_ was totally not happening any time soon.

 

Luckily, condoms were pretty easy to get. Although there were rules about sexual relations between crewmembers, those were mostly about inter-ranking relationships to stop the abuse of power, and at any rate taking full advantage of shore leave was only prohibited when it would actually be dangerous, whether personally or politically. And even if these hadn't been the case, Starfleet was sensible enough to recognize that asking several hundred fully-grown adults in very close quarters to remain celibate together for five straight years at a time was just a little too much to expect. Maybe allowing a couple of extra crewmembers to flaunt regulations was a small price to pay compared to pregnancies or STIs, both of which could potentially lose Starfleet a perfectly competent officer.

 

So condoms were provided pretty indiscriminately in the public bathrooms and sickbay. They weren't unlimited supplies – if the Enterprise had to take an unexpected detour or had to be scrupulous with its money they could and did run out since when it came to coding replicators apparently condoms hadn't come too far up on the priority list. (Thus his and Spock's experimentation with alien varieties during a particularly dry stretch, so to speak.) Overall, though, it worked well – they were provided openly but subtly in each public bathroom, and it was easy enough to pretend he never used them or used them only on shore leave, given that he was technically not supposed to be sleeping with anyone on his ship, including Spock.

 

(Which had surprised him, actually, at first – surely they were close enough in rank for it not to be an issue? It had bothered him, at least, until the first time Jim had gotten seriously injured on a mission. He'd been unconscious at the time and even afterwards people were pretty reluctant to tell him about it, but apparently dealing with both his boyfriend's being injured and the extra duties and responsibilities expected of an acting captain on top of that of a first officer and science officer had taken a bit of a toll on Spock. It turned out that there was a very good reason why a captain and first officer should be close, but not _too_ close, and that problem was spelled out in the very first line of a first officer's job description. Only the fact that he trusted Spock to do the right thing even if he was seriously wounded or died quelled the occasional guilty feeling that stirred up in Jim's gut. Well, that and the fact that by now he was pretty sure they were already emotionally compromised by each other and would continue to be even if they broke up. He definitely didn't think the fact that he wasn't fucking Spock would stop him feeling awful if he was injured and he knew Spock felt the same.)

 

Lube was a little more difficult. And of course they'd provide it – given all their talk about diversity they had to at least _pretend_ to be equal-opportunity. (And that's what this was about – regardless of the fact that lube was useful in lots of different combinations of people for all sorts of reasons, the one involving gaysex was still the first any ever thought of.) Whether they really were equal-opportunity to the extent they liked to boast was questionable - the slightly lower levels of high-ranking female officers and the even lower comparative levels of gay, bisexual, or transsexual officers proving somewhat conspicuous signs if you knew where to look. Things were better in the twenty-third century than ever before, but some biases were hard to totally get rid of. Although Jim supposed he couldn't entirely complain given that he kept pretty quiet about the fact that he was bi (or as quiet as he could, anyway).

 

(Sometimes, Jim wondered whether he could force Starfleet to wave regulations for Spock and him if they outed themselves spectacularly enough. It wasn't an impossible idea – ever since the Narada incident both men had essentially become celebrities throughout the Federation, seen almost as heroes. If he timed it right, they might just be able to make Starfleet fearful enough of publicly criticizing them – or, even worse, appearing homophobic – that they wouldn't be able to touch them. But as tempting as this all was, he had to agree with Spock's vehement objections – disobeying rules was one thing, but using their status as saviours of the Earth in an attempt to hold themselves above them was kind of a whole other thing entirely. Jim didn't save Earth just so he could fuck Spock whenever he wanted. And how weird was it that claiming to have saved Earth didn't even sound totally weird anymore?)

 

Lube was also provided pretty conveniently, in the same dispensers as the condoms. It was just a little harder to be subtle with it, however – condoms he could always write off as shore leave or something, and he could make the same arguments about lube, but with...rather different implications. Of course, as he'd said above, that wasn't to say that he couldn't have been using it with a girl, but some associations were hard to shake, and in this case at least, those associations were totally right. In the end, though, keeping quiet about his sexuality and outright trying to hide it were two very different things and Kirk never really bothered to pretend.

 

Both of these paled, however, in comparison to the difficulty of retrieving enema equipment.

It was all Spock's fault they needed it, anyway. The feeling could be pleasurable, but it wasn't nearly enough to compensate for the difficulty of getting it in the first place. Jim wouldn't have bothered, but it wasn't for pleasure that Spock demanded it. Apparently, any kind of anal sex was unhygienic enough that he wasn't willing to do more than touch his hole without one beforehand. Which...yeah, Jim could kind of understand, a bit, but that didn't mean he had to like it, especially when he was gracious enough not to care whether _he_ had one (unless rimming was going to be involved, in which case he was happy to abstain unless Spock'd had a shower beforehand).

 

Because apparently, unlike condoms and lube, enemas weren't considered essential enough to sex that Starfleet was willing to hand them out inconspicuously and without question. Meaning that if he wanted anything he'd have to go straight to sickbay and either steal one or ask for one from Bones. And he was his doctor, yeah, and he was very grateful that they were mostly able to separate doctor duties and abilities from friendly ones, but there was nothing that was going to make asking for an enema kit remotely pleasant for anyone involved. And, thanks to Starfleet, it wasn't enough just to get the kit and a reusable bag and never return – because the enemas provided in sickbay were designed to be used by anyone, they only ever had disposable bags, which could only be used once each.

 

At least the bags were smaller than the general equipment needed, but either way he'd need to put any of them in a bag if he wanted to transport them from sickbay to his quarters discretely. (And he'd have to do it himself – even if his relationship with Spock weren't supposed to be secret he'd like as few people to know he was semi-regularly giving himself enemas as possible, and at any rate there were only so many private favours you could ask of a yeoman. The poor girl he had would probably faint, anyway.) Usually he tackled the problem by waiting until the ship was mostly empty and then shoving as many as he could fit into a backpack and returning.

 

Jesus christ, the things he did for this man.

 

Really, if Spock didn't like being on top or Jim didn't like being on bottom they'd likely not even bother, and mostly they didn't, but whenever they did do it that way it ended up being worth it enough to sustain them the effort needed to do it again. Sometimes they even made the most of the enema itself, too. (Spock had briefly expressed interest at one point – a purely scientific experimentation, of course – but when Jim had explained that there was no goddamn way he was giving up any of his hard-earned bags and that if Spock wanted one he'd have to get it himself this desire was quickly quashed.)

 

So condoms and lube were readily available (mostly) and enemas good enough – vanilla sex was always available, at least. But James T. Kirk had never been a particularly vanilla kind of guy.

 

He'd been more than a little surprised when he found out Spock was the same way, though. Even after he'd seen how passionate the man could be in bed he'd just automatically assumed that the reason Vulcans talked so little about sex was that they viewed the entire process as inherently shameful and unimportant. But, as Spock pointed out, he – and most Vulcans – were scientists, and the pursuit of new experiences and the exploration of new ideas was the very basis of their art. And, after all, many of the things that were perfectly normal to Humans were quite unusual for Vulcans, including some he had already become well-adjusted to – like the most triumphant example, kissing on the lips. Although he could be a little taciturn sometimes when it came to the sharing of fantasies, Spock was more than willing to try out anything Jim could come up with.

 

It was almost a shame that sex toys were so hard to get because, unexpectedly, it had turned out that hiding them wouldn't be an issue, either. All senior officers were provided with a personal yeoman who, among other things, cleaned their rooms once every three days or so. Which would have been an issue if, joy of joys, he didn't have a particularly fastidious boyfriend from whom a command to stop doing that because it interfered with the positioning of his possessions didn't sound too out of the ordinary. It certainly didn't hurt that many of these possessions were relics from a now-dead planet, and if a certain young Yeoman Noël-Paul Dupont began to occasionally look at the Commander with dreamy, sympathetic eyes the indignity was a small price to pay.

 

So it wasn't the having that was the problem – it was just the getting. If they could find something ready-made for the job, then that was good, if rare, but if a little work was required that was fine, too – and Jim had never been one to be afraid of getting his hands dirty.

 

The first idea they had was the simplest and most effective – as superior officers, both Jim and Spock had private replicators in each of their rooms to be used as they saw fit. Normally what went out of those things was logged for health purposes, but those records were only to be seen to in cases of necessity. And, anyway, overriding the system to 'forget' a replication here or there wasn't exactly a difficult task, and as long as they only wiped the suspicious creations there was no reason to raise any eyebrows.

 

After all, the ice was standard enough, but it was kinda hard to justify replicating large amounts of whipped cream without anything to put it on. Or even larger qualities of chocolate, which Spock had become rather fond of, if only because of the uniquely intoxicating effects it had on Vulcans. (It had taken them a while to come across the perfect setting to create chocolate just of the right warmth, texture, consistency, and taste, but testing had certainly not been any trouble.) Or the rather consistent outputs of single cucumbers which, all jokes aside, really were terribly useful, if a little dangerous if not handled delicately – Jim'd had more than enough experience in adolescence to know exactly how much trouble it could be to stick anything up an ass that didn't have a base to prevent it being pulled in. (And, really, hadn't all this been hard enough on Bones already?) Plus, there was a whole bunch of Vulcan foods that Spock had introduced him to that Jim couldn't always pronounce but would certainly not be forgetting any time soon, like that weird leaf that made his skin tingle and muscles jump, or that powder that grew heavy and pressing when liquid was applied...

 

But, of course, food wasn't all that could be programmed into the replicator. (And oh if Jim hadn't become something of an expert regarding what could or could not be replicated...) The ship's replicators were also programmed with an impressive variety of clothing styles from as many different times and places as you could imagine, and while personal replicators weren't usually meant to be able to make these it wasn't difficult to hack into the database and overrule those limits (well, not difficult for Kirk, anyway). Unfortunately, the coders of this clothing apparently hadn't considered it likely that a Federation Starship would find themselves on a planet on which every person was obliged to wear scanty lingerie. In fact, Kirk was convinced they had deliberately designed the least flattering costumes possible for each style just in order to thwart people like him. It wasn't impossible to alter the coding but Kirk was not a tailor and anything he changed was much more likely to just make the clothes look even stranger so he stopped bothering after a while.

 

Sex toys were even more impossible – creating an object of the right general shape and material of a dildo was pretty much the extent of Kirk's coding abilities. The replicators just weren't meant to make things not made of clothing or food material and for all but professional replicator coders having a base was pretty much necessary. His few attempts at making rope had all failed and anything with an actual motor was just _insane_. Plus, most of the replicators on the ship – and all of the ones meant for private use – were pretty small, only intended to create single bowls or plates of food. Anything bigger than that wouldn't fit in the space where they were created and even Jim had no idea how he'd manage taking it out there and moving it somewhere else. So there were definite limits on the use of replicators.

 

That wasn't always necessary, though – they both had clothing of their own which could be put to creative use. Belts, ties, and sashes could all be used as impromptu bondage, and the latter two as blindfolds or gags as well, although rather amateur, inexpert versions. (Unfortunately, Jim hadn't yet figured out a way to make a ballgag yet, but not from lack of trying. Sometimes he'd find himself glancing rather longingly at the dental gags in sickbay, but hadn't found a good opportunity to steal one, and probably wouldn't.) And, of course, there was that leather jacket and semi-matching pants that Jim'd had in the back of his wardrobe since forever. However, of course, finding clothing fit for Humans on alien planets was almost as difficult as finding sex toys, and sexy clothing even more so, so if they wanted to role-play (which, of course, they did) they would have to make do with the replicator's unflattering versions or do it by imagination alone.

 

Unfortunately, though, because of the whole 'secret relationship' thing, a lot of bondage or painplay stuff was forbidden from the get-go. Anything that could create marks on anyone's neck, or on any part of Kirk's upper body (due to his rather maddening tendency to find his shirts inexplicably torn even on relatively safe missions; despite the inconvenience off-shift, Jim was convinced that Spock didn't totally mind) would have to be vetoed. But as long as they were discreet, anywhere else was generally safe, and they (read: Spock) always made sure to read ahead on clothing customs on alien planets they'd be visiting to avoid uncomfortable questions.

 

Recording themselves was a similarly bad idea – although Kirk was mostly confident in his ability to firmly-enough encrypt anything they could take from the most scrupulous of hackers, a year in the public eye had taught him better than to underestimate a determined journalist. And, while he himself was uncertain enough about the whole world seeing him going at it (after all, there was exhibitionism, and then there was _exhibitionism_ ) he could only imagine how much worse it would be for Spock. If only for his sake, they were even wary about doing anything over a comm system real-time – even if they didn't save the conversation, it had still happened, and could still be traced if one was skilled enough to know how.

 

But there were a lot of cases where toys weren't needed at all or where toys couldn't even _begin_ to do some of the stuff they could do together. Spock's Vulcan touch-telepathy was probably the best example of that. They'd once spent an entire very memorable three-day shore leave on Pollux II doing almost nothing more than exploring the many ways that telepathy could be used for great effect during sex, and even then they hadn't exhausted all their ideas, coming up with more every now and then to the day.

 

The list was far from short – from the obvious tricks like knowing _exactly_ where to touch and how much pressure to put into it or being able to feel both halves of the equation simultaneously or sending pleasure directly to the brain, there were less intuitive things like the ability to stave off orgasm almost indefinitely (Spock had once told him that he had heard of Vulcans held at this plateau stage for over an hour but that he did not recommend attempting this on a Human and Jim pretty much half had a heart attack then and there) or entirely removing refractory periods. Melds themselves were very pleasant on their own – sexually, intellectually, or both – but at a certain level you gained the ability to project images of yourself into a setting of your choosing, and wasn't that just begging for hardcore roleplaying and mixing things up. Knowing that he'd probably never get to have sex with Spock in the Captain's chair felt a lot better when he knew that he had already done so in Spock's mental plane, at least. And, of course, if they ever wanted to try something a little different either of them could just change their appearance to any form which suited the other. (And that wasn't just limited to clothing and hair; he'd never be up for a permanent change, but Jim had to admit that being a girl had its upsides. Two of them, to be specific.)

 

And then there were more unusual things. Vulcans had phenomenal control over their own bodies compared with Humans which had its uses on its own, most notably in the whole _self-induced breathplay_ thing, which Jim would never entirely get over. (Of course, if Kirk wanted to get involved he could administer and Spock keep track; that worked, too.) But in a meld of a surprisingly shallow depth Spock could keep track of Jim's reactions, too – making things like breathplay and painplay far easier. (Jim would even be willing to try out some consensual non-consent, relying on Spock to not go too far, but from the very impassioned reaction he got when he even hinted at the idea he guessed Spock wasn't a fan.) Apparently if they went deep enough Spock might just be able to control Jim's body like his own, but Spock didn't believe he had the mental ability to go in that deep without danger arising even if he wanted to. Which, Jim admitted, was probably a good idea – he was into a lot of stuff, but he had to admit that the idea of someone quite literally controlling the workings of his body just edged slightly more onto the side of 'creepy' rather than 'sexy' to him. Also according to Spock, if they got bonded, the mental connection formed in the process, while tenuous, would not only allow telepathic communication from any distance but pretty much anything else mentioned above they wanted, albeit in a muted sense. Jim had never been much of a guy for commitment, but he had to admit that any race that had _institutionalized psychic orgasms from afar_ into their system of marriage might just have the right idea.

 

Other than that, there was all manner of fun sexy stuff they could do that didn't necessitate props – all sorts of positions, strip teases and lap dances (including one memorable afternoon when Kirk taught Spock how to dance sexy. Just in case it ever came up on a mission, of course...), fisting (particularly pleasurable taking into account Spock's sensitive hands), massages...

 

Unfortunately, in most cases bringing someone else along with them wasn't an option – it was one thing to bend the fraternisation rules for a First Officer who barely ever obeyed a direct order let alone allowed himself to be coerced into something he didn't want to do, and quite another to take such an attitude with any of the rest of the crew, who generally actually kind of respected him, for some reason. On shore leave, though, all bets were as good as off and letting someone else join in was almost painfully easy. Or, y'know, just going off with them himself. They'd been non-monogamous pretty much since day one and there hadn't ever really been any question about it. Jim was just like that by nature – he'd only rarely had exclusive relationships before and they'd never worked. He had always been open about it – he'd never cheat on anyone who wasn't okay with him sleeping with other people – and while he would have been willing to compromise if the person were worth it (read: Spock) it would definitely have been a compromise, and more than once he'd parted from a potential boyfriend or girlfriend on amicable terms due to incompatible sexual expectations. He liked sex, and he liked it with a variety of people. He knew sex didn't equal love (hell, at this stage he probably knew that better than most people) and that sleeping with someone else didn't mean you loved your partner any less. He knew exactly how meaningless sex could be – and exactly how fun it could be, just once, just for a laugh. Sex was important to him. Sometimes, sure, people tried to give him grief about it, but if by the twenty-third century people hadn't learned to mind their own fucking business when it came to other peoples' sex lives, well, that wasn't his problem.

 

He was, again, a little surprised to find Spock felt the same way, but in retrospect probably shouldn't have been. It was, after all, only really emotions that caused people to have irrationally jealous reactions to their partners engaging in certain physical activities with others, and while Spock was coming more and more to accept irrationally positive emotions he was still highly averse to irrationally negative ones.

 

They had rules, of course. They tried, whenever possible, to make it back to their shared bed each night, even if that meant returning at three in the morning. They didn't hook up with old girlfriends or boyfriends (which, admittedly, was rather a bit harder for Kirk than for Spock, considering he'd inexplicably managed to acquire old flames halfway across the galaxy) or anyone who seemed likely to take the whole thing just a bit too serious. They didn't break plans with each other to go out with someone else. They had attempted, at first, not to question how things went when the other returned but in the end they were both just too curious about the complexities of xenosex to avoid asking whether Asterions really did sing during sex, or whether noses really were an erogenous zone to Ka3a2rgjese. (The answers? Yes, and no, but the ridge above the mouth _was_.)

 

All in all, it worked. It worked very well, in fact. And if Kirk sometimes frowned just a tiny bit when Spock went off too often with someone else, well, you'd have to get him very drunk before he'd admit that sometimes he could be kind of an insecure bastard. He knew intellectually sex didn't mean love, but every now and then he couldn't help but worry that Spock would fall for someone else. Which, yeah, was ridiculous for a lot of reasons. But while he worried, he also knew that if he convinced Spock to stop this (which would mean that he'd have to, too, and that'd be going just a bit too far in and of itself...) he'd just be encouraging his more pathetic side, and James T. Kirk had never been one to cower in fear. And it got easier - every time Spock woke him up after a night in someone else's bed with a kiss behind his ear and a strong arm around his waist he felt just a little more comfortable. He knew that Spock in all likelihood probably knew about his insecurities himself – they'd both had enough experiences with disastrous away missions to know very well what relief looked like in the other – but he hadn't mentioned it yet, and now that it was happening less and less often he probably never would.

 

But back to the toys.

 

Obviously, there were always some cases where toys weren't strictly necessary, just preferable. Jim wouldn't have any idea how to get his hands on a feather or duster, but there was no reason he couldn't just tickle Spock just with his fingers. (In fact, Spock seemed to enjoy the increased proximity involved.) On the bondage side, if he was the one in it (which he was more often than not) Spock's Vulcan strength was more than capable of holding him down alone – and, again, in some ways this was even hotter, if only because of that show of the power Spock always kept tightly-reigned within him. And, ultimately, the greatest thing Jim could do for Spock – the one thing that could take him from soft to orgasm quicker than anything else – required nothing more than Spock's hand and Jim's mouth. (No – make that one of Spock's fingers.)

 

Bondage in general, though, was surprisingly easy. The leather the replicator spat out for Western wear was great and leather belts with buckles even better – Kirk was no tailor but attaching and tying together a working restraint wasn't too difficult. Anything too complicated was out (as much because of pure lack of ability as because of distrust in his skills) but other than that they were good.

 

Paddles were hard. Really, Jim should probably have just been satisfied with some good slapping – Spock more than had a strong enough arm for it, and he did admit to having more than a touch of a spanking fetish – but there was just something about the good whack of wood against his ass that kept him looking. At times he had eyed the table tennis paddles speculatively, but it was well-known that those disappeared at least once a month and that was enough to negate any sexy properties they might have had. They eventually tried to fashion one from the closest material the replicator was able to create (wood being, of course, beyond its abilities) and while it wasn't perfect it worked well enough.

 

Wax was similarly difficult. Spock had a stock of good, simple, white, Terran-esque candles for use in meditation in place of his firepot. His religious objections to using them for waxplay were minimal, but that wasn't the issue – the reason Spock only used them for special occasions was, of course, because they couldn't be used over and over like his firepot could. And finding wax elsewhere was rather difficult – in the places that did have a similar substance, often it burned far too hot to be at all safe, even for Vulcans. And there weren't all that many uses for candles nowadays – mostly people used torches for light, with candles taking on more spiritual and romantic symbolism. They'd tried replicating them once but it didn't really work – the replicator couldn't create wax and anything else was just too dangerous. In the end they just decided to wait it out until they could get more.

 

Mirrors were easy – at one voice command the computer in his quarters was able to make entire walls or ceilings totally mirrored to great effect. (And, really, that was something he'd always wondered – why? Was there a use to having your walls and ceiling mirrored beyond the obvious? The walls he could understand, he guessed, but the ceiling? Someday he'd have to meet up with the architect responsible and thank him.)

 

And then there were some things which required more of a...hands-on approach. In more than one sense, of course.

 

It was funny how one of the most commonplace materials in engineering – a kind of weird Orion silicon-feeling ribbon-shaped material used for supporting heavy objects with a single tie – was absolutely perfect for cock ring purposes. (Although, of course, the fact that such a thing had been invented by Orions was nothing surprising at all; Jim wouldn't have been surprised if that had, indeed, been its original purpose.) Rather like old Earth seatbelts the material was easy to stretch to a good amount when manipulated slowly, but settled down tight and firm. It was ridiculously simple to just head off to Engineering with some excuse, take a piece or two, wrap it round, tie a knot, and go to town. The only difficulty was in getting a piece short enough to be useful, but they had specialized cutters everywhere on the deck, and as long as no-one caught you, there was no reason to be worried. And even that wasn't a hard and fast rule – one time some young Engineering ensign had wandered over, presumably bemused by what the Captain could have been cutting up, but Jim had just flashed him a grin and moved on like everything was normal. He sometimes wondered if the guy ever figured it out.

 

He'd even tried to get a little electricity going, once. Obviously pretty much all of the power boxes on the Enterprise were, apart from being far too huge and powerful for his purposes, somewhat _attached_ to the engineering deck (and though that sort of thing might have been mildly tempting Spock had always been consistent in his determined refusal to engage in any sort of public sex, to Jim's great disappointment), but there were smaller, more portable ones designed for use out on missions. And, sure, these, too, were a hell of a lot stronger than even Kirk was willing to play with (he was kinky, not suicidal) but working on one and reducing the voltage to a manageable level couldn't've been too difficult, right? Or so he'd thought – still did, really – and had even been on the look out for things to use as conductors when Spock found out about it and did the Spock equivalent of asking if he was _fucking_ kidding, thank you very much, you are _not_ going through with that and that's that, which for Spock basically meant listing out all likely and unlikely dangers involved in the idea in a monotone slightly deeper than his usual tone of voice. The fact that Jim had not only done this before (although, admittedly, not from so powerful a base) but had actually constructed his own powerbox single-handedly one bored summer during the Academy apparently meant nothing. So, what, he could be trusted to make a cannon out of some sulphur and a piece of fucking bamboo, but couldn't to make a machine for which he had ample materials?!

 

Or maybe Spock just thought Kirk was being a painslut again. (Which, admittedly, hadn't just been in the back of his mind...) Spock still wasn't totally comfortable with the whole illogical ability of Humans to get pleasure from pain, even when he could feel the sensation himself through his telepathy. He was getting used to it, though, and it wasn't as though Jim didn't have enough other things to keep him occupied while he waited.

 

(Not that Kirk was totally down with everything Spock suggested, either. No matter how much Spock tried to convince him otherwise, Jim was _absolutely sure_ that Humans couldn't bend in the ways those people did in that Vulcan Kama Sutra book. Or, at least, not without _another_ 'interesting' trip to Bones. And then there was that whole thing about Vulcans apparently being knowledge-sluts and Spock seemingly finding Jim's ability to beat him in chess one of the hottest things ever, which would have been rather cool if it didn't inevitably lead to countless overly long chess games that Spock refused to skip no matter how eager Jim was to just move into the bedroom. He couldn't even just deliberately lose them, as the whole point of the games was that Jim showed off his impressive intellect and the vanquishing of this foreplay tended to make Spock huffy and irritable, which tended not to create ideal conditions for sex. If anything good had come from it, he'd gained hours of amusement from popping down to the science labs while Spock was on duty, spending a few minutes discussing loudly with the nearest officer about the latest breakthrough, and skipping back to his quarters with nought else but a wink at his suddenly very sexually frustrated boyfriend.)

 

And that was where they found themselves. It wasn't a terrible position – wasn't even a bad one, really – but even where it wasn't perfect, both men were resourceful enough not to let it bother them too long. They wanted something, they'd find a way to make it happen, and if it were truly impossible they'd find something else to distract them until they could try it for real.

 

The former was the feeling striking Kirk at the moment.

 

This he hadn't tried to make before – not so much because of lack of interest as lack of need. Powerboxes, while complicated, were rather rare, and usually quite expensive. (Which, fortunately but teasingly, was rarely going to be an issue anymore on his Captain's salary.) These, though? Were a dime a dozen on Earth, practically, especially if you were going for an external one.

 

And that was what Jim'd start off with – he could probably replicate a dildo with a hollow inside with enough tweaking, but the motor would have to be much smaller than Jim was sure he'd be able to make at the moment. External ones would be much easier to do, and offered only slightly fewer possibilities.

 

Oh, yes, the possibilities...

 

Jim planned to create his own hand-made vibrator.

 

It was such a good idea he wondered why it hadn't occurred to him before. Surprisingly, they'd never really come across any good vibrators on any of the other planets – the few they'd found had all been far too weak for a Human or a Vulcan. It'd never really come up before. Somehow, though, Jim had an inkling Spock would enjoy it – Vulcans were surprisingly tactile and there was little Spock enjoyed more than a new sensation to explore. Which was one of the reasons why he was so disappointed his little electrobox had never gone through – he didn't think he'd ever forget the first time he'd tried _that_ out.

 

And, actually, that idea gave him pause. Spock has been so concerned about the electrobox, would he react the same way to a vibrator? After some thought, Jim decided that he wouldn't. How dangerous could a vibrator really be? Sure, it could malfunction, but there was no need for it to be powerful enough to be truly dangerous. He didn't actually think Spock doubted his ability to create a machine that worked – he was pretty sure Spock was just worried he'd set the electricity too high and damage himself. Plus, he wouldn't be working with so powerful a base this time. If nothing else, Jim was certain that a lot of Spock's worries were just in his head and that if he were presented with a ready-made fully-functioning machine he would realize that he didn't have anything to complain about. Theoretically, deliberately zapping yourself with electricity was worrying; once you got into it, though, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

 

The design wasn't difficult – he knew what he wanted it to do and look like, and he'd tinkered enough back in Iowa to almost be able to make anything he liked just off the top of his head. He could have looked up some specs if he'd wanted, just as a ballpark measure of the sort of stuff he'd need, but since when had James T Kirk taken the easy road? If he was going to make his own vibrator, he was going to make _his own vibrator_ , not someone else's. He wanted it to be special.

 

And, maybe, he wanted to impress Spock. So sue him! Coming up with ways to please him was kind of his whole job, wasn't it? And it wasn't as though he wouldn't benefit in turn...

 

So he began by hanging around engineering a bit, seeing what was there. Most of the parts there were too big and powerful for his purposes, though, so he got a bit more specific, aiming for where small repairs were made to tricorders and the like. Sure, some people questioned why he was there so often, but Kirk had always found that as long as he talked sternly about routine inspections most officers would be too worried to pay him too much attention. He felt a little bad about scaring them, but made up for it by writing extra-nice reports. Not that they'd know why, but still.

 

Eventually, he lucked out – a broken communicator that couldn't be fixed. He asked, and the engineer shrugged – what use did they have for it?

 

However, he faced a slight difficulty, now. Where was he to work on his new Project? Now that he and Spock were sharing quarters more often than not and largely living in the same space there were very few places left in which to hide things. Eventually, Jim found a solution – although Spock had requested that his yeoman cease cleaning his room with the explanation that he was able to do so adequately on his own, the simple fact was that Spock was a busy man and had little time he was willing or able to spend cleaning it from top to bottom. After observing his boyfriend's movements for a few days it became clear that there were several areas of their quarters Spock simply never checked – the corner cabinet in their shared bathroom; the upper shelf of his wardrobe. It was an easy enough task to work on the Project while Spock was away in lab or on planet without him and hide it any of those places at all other times.

 

Because there was no question that he would keep it from Spock. What was the point in creating that anticipation? If he were too excited he'd just end up rushing it, anyway, and he didn't want that – this thing was going to be good.

 

So, he puttered away at it at odd moments, sometimes spending no more than five or ten minutes at a time. He salvaged another communicator and then a medical tricorder, cannibalizing them all for their parts. A few necessary tools from a communal box in engineering. (Like he'd be the only one to steal supplies!)

 

He still wasn't done, though – there were still a couple of essential parts that, frustratingly, he hadn't been able to find on the ship. Or, at least, not from anything (or anyone) he could reasonably steal from; he was pretty sure Mr. Scott would mind if the ship's running were compromised even slightly, especially if the reason was no better than to procure parts for the Captain's own personal sex toy. He wasn't really all that much looking forward to _that_ report.

 

Luck was on his side, though, and the next planet they beamed down to on a diplomatic mission was adequately advanced technology-wise for his requirements. He didn't have a lot of free time – this wasn't a shore leave, as Starfleet was so keen on reminding him for any mission that didn't involve phasers and warp-speed chases – but he was able to escape for long enough to find something close enough to what he needed. Satisfied, cheerfully ignoring the curious glances of Bones and the cultural advisor, he ordered a beam up.

 

Two days later he was finally given a chance to finish up the Project – Spock was working on a particularly involved experiment and Jim could count on four whole hours all to himself and the vibrator. He put the final pieces in place and attached it all together with almost obsessive patience. It was exactly the sort of fiddliness that people tended not to expect from him, and yet the practicality of being able to build and repair machines was totally understandable from someone of his background. Maybe that was why he liked it – that combination of the two different sides of himself. Or maybe he was just an independent bastard who couldn't be convinced something was made right unless he did it himself; whichever.

 

It was done. Proud, Jim sat back and looked at it, testing it. He'd appropriated a dial from a tricorder and the heaviness of the vibrations could be adjusted; as it was an external one, a separate control wasn't necessary. Hm, and now that he tried it out, wasn't it just a bit too weak? Almost eagerly, he found himself diving back in, tweaking the design.

 

He hadn't really thought about the process at the beginning – had been more concerned with the inevitable results – but he'd enjoyed making it. Perhaps he ought to try something else after? An internal one would be much more difficult...something that spun, maybe...?

 

But there. He was done. He looked it over, examining every centimetre. The shell was appropriated from the base of a communicator with the flip-top removed and the controls covered with the back of a tricorder, save for the dial at the bottom. On one side it was totally smooth and lightly curved, but there were sharper edges for more precise stimulation The vibrator itself was in one end, so either end could be used for varying intensities even beyond the dial. It was beautiful.

 

Now he just needed to wait for the right moment...

 

* * *

 

A few days later it was Wednesday, and, as on all Wednesdays, Spock headed out to the gym to practice sparring. Normally Jim joined him (especially lately, although, mysteriously, despite the fact that the number of sparring matches had increased, the amount of time spent actually fighting had dropped significantly...), but not always, and when Jim feigned concern for a particular report he would need to finish up with soon Spock didn't question it.

 

He returned exactly as Jim wanted him – tired but not exhausted, still half-damp from his shower after his exertion, and with a whole evening of free time. Smiling, Jim pressed the button and the machine in his hands purred to life.

 

Spock paused as the door closed behind him, staring at the vibrator where Jim held it as he sat on the edge of their bed. For a few moments he did nothing but watch as the object rumbled promisingly.

 

Just when Jim was beginning to wonder whether he'd done something wrong Spock spoke. “You made this?”

 

Oh yeah – there it was. He knew Spock's voice well enough to be able to recognize _that_ now.

 

Jim shrugged. “Yeah. From old communicators and shit.”

 

“I had wondered at the source of your concentration,” Spock continued, eyes flicking only briefly to glance at his boyfriend, slowly making his way over. “I assume this is it?”

 

“Damn. Knew I couldn't keep it from you long.”

 

“On the contrary – I was completely unaware of the nature of what, precisely, had so held your interest; I knew, merely, that something had done so.” He reached the bed and took the machine from Jim's hands, running his long fingers over it and shivering almost imperceptibly.

 

“What gave it away? The fact that I barely complained last time Starfleet sent us on a milk run instead of somewhere actually useful?” Now it was he who was entranced – he knew enough about Vulcan fingers to be able to guess what Spock was feeling just holding the thing.

 

“Yes.” And, wow, if Spock was reduced to such bluntness the thing had to be working. He mentally pumped his fists, and not so mentally began to stiffen in his trousers. “From faulty communicators, you say?”

 

“Yeah,” Jim said, fully aware that for Spock this was not an idle question; if his boyfriend could get off on his chess skills, he was only just beginning to imagine how he'd respond to holding a creation of Jim's in his very hands to prod and poke at. “Plus a couple of tricorders, one medical, and a padd. And a few materials from Vindemiatrix Beta.”

 

“Fascinating.” And, fuck, Spock's voice was _doing things_ to him. But as much as he was enjoying watching Spock turn the vibrator over in his oh so sensitive hands he had some rather more involved ideas in mind for tonight...

 

Standing up wordlessly, Jim reversed their positions, lightly pushing Spock down onto the bed and standing between his knees. Leaning in, he kissed him, wrapping both hands around the vibe in Spock's right hand, pressing his fingers into Spock's and rubbing slightly. Spock grunted quietly and Jim smiled against his lips.

 

“It can go higher or lower, too – look,” he murmured, moving one hand to twist the dial slightly. From the way his fingertips curved ever so slightly to increase the stimulation on the points of his fingers he seemed to approve. “Was a bitch to work that one out, how to get it to do that. But I wanted to be able to get _just_ the right intensity...”

 

After one final press, Jim delicately removed the vibe from Spock's hand with one of his, keeping the other firmly attached to the back of Spock's hand, drawing small circles in the soft flesh of his palm. Placing the machine on the bed beside him, he knelt, a hand on Spock's hip.

 

Fuck, he was so hard already. He loved to see that – Spock so blatantly turned on, because of him. Maybe it was a side-effect of the whole steady boyfriend thing but he'd grown rather possessive of Spock's dick. He liked to see it taken care of. Happy. All for him. His own dick twitched in satisfaction.

 

And there was just something especially nice about seeing Spock like this with his clothes on. Not that Spock naked was anything bad to look at, not at all, but it just seemed somehow even more obscene to be dressed up in perfectly pressed science blues with a great whomping erection jutting out between his legs. If it weren't for that, Spock could well have just been sitting on the bridge and no-one else would have noticed anything different. It was slightly distracting to watch Spock at his panel and know exactly what he'd look like if Kirk just walked right over and pressed him against the bulkhead, but it was, for the most part, a welcome distraction. (Thank god he'd gotten into a habit of crossing his legs even when he wasn't trying to hide a rather inappropriate hard-on in the middle of the bridge, though...)

 

Plus, Spock didn't get that turned on for no reason. He wasn't difficult to please, but he was far from inexperienced, and it would take more than a few clumsy kisses to get him worked up. Seeing him so much so already before he'd even taken his pants off was, well, pleasing, even if he'd cheated by using Spock's hands.

 

Spock made an odd little noise and Jim realized he'd been staring. Shaking his head and ignoring the faint flickers of amusement emanating from Spock's bare hand against his, he reached down to remove Spock's shoes and socks. Untangling their hands, Spock helped by removing his own shirt. Removing his pants slowly – with another appreciative glance or two, of course – Jim grinned up at Spock, and wasted no time retrieving the vibe and pressing it against the base of his cock.

 

Spock almost jumped, expelling a little puff of breath that almost sounded like a gasp. Grin widening in joy, Jim moved it, sliding it up the bottom over the vein to near the head. He was glad he'd thought to lube it up first; this could have been kinda uncomfortable, otherwise. But Spock's small moan as he traced around the edge of the head sounded anything but uncomfortable.

 

Avoiding the head (he didn't want to oversensitize him too fast and at any rate anticipation wasn't always a bad thing), Jim drew another slow rotation around Spock's cock before gliding it back down to the base and pressing it against the bottom of his balls. The quiet buzzing failed to drown out Spock's happy little murmurs or the hitches of his breath, and the shameless way Spock spread his legs even farther was painfully visible from Jim's vantage point. His dick was quivering in expectation and Jim decided not to keep him waiting any longer. Leaning forward, pressing the vibrator against the sensitive skin of his scrotum, Jim licked the head.

 

Spock's hips bucked slightly and Jim automatically moved to hold his hips in place despite the futility of Human strength versus Vulcan. Pleasure spiked through him where they were touching, spreading throughout his body – both from his end and Spock's. Spock never bucked his hips like that during blowjobs – he was well aware of Vulcan strength and the somewhat mood-ruining nature of accidentally choking your partner. (Not that Jim was wanting in the deep-throating department, but there is rather a difference to guiding a dick down your throat and having it shoved down there.) For him to be forgetting that already meant Jim had to be doing something right.

 

Jim smirked, rubbing small circles against Spock's scrotum and touching the very tip of his tongue to the slit of Spock's penis. Spock huffed quietly and Jim's grin widened; moving the vibrator back to the base of Spock's cock, Kirk took the head into his mouth and sucked in one movement.

 

Spock grunted, hips shifting again, and his hand moved to tangle in Jim's hair. Continuing the sucking, Jim traced the underside of the head with his tongue, rubbing the vibrator back and forth. He settled into a rhythm – suck and slide, suck and slide.

 

Jesus god he was hard – both of them. Jim fucking loved sucking cock. Having someone coming so undone at every flicker of your tongue or touch of your fingertip? Or, on the other hand, the submissiveness of it, thinking of nothing else but your partner's pleasure? Either way Kirk was ready and willing. But it wasn't just that – the very act of having a dick in his mouth got him hot. He liked dicks. He'd never really gotten all those jokes guys sometimes made about women looking elegant naked and men looking awkward – as far as he was concerned, cocks could be fucking works of art in their own right, and little got him hard faster than a particularly beautiful one.

 

And Spock's was certainly something to look at. Not just look, either, but taste. There was something so distinctive about the taste of a penis – even among other species, some of that essential masculinity was always present. Spock's was nothing terribly unusual (not compared to Jim's experience, anyway) but there was just something unique enough about it that Jim always loved. Maybe it was Spock's coppery blood, but his dick always tasted faintly sweet. It was delicious.

 

The straining of Jim's pants was beginning to become slightly uncomfortable but he ignored them. This was about Spock, now, and he was only just beginning.

 

He moved off slightly, lapping up at the precome there, before removing the vibrator as well. Spock actually _growled_ in frustration (Growled? Jim's head was spinning.) but Jim only paused for a moment before taking Spock's entire dick into his mouth, tongue swirling around the underside as he slowly took more and more of it into his mouth. Spock groaned again, his fist tightening in Jim's hair almost enough to hurt. Hollowing his cheeks, Jim sucked again, hard, and Spock nearly whimpered.

 

Well, fuck. Kirk paused for another few moments, 'cause otherwise, this thing was going to last a whole lot less time than he wanted.

 

“Jim. Please.”

 

Or he could keep going.

 

Hollowing his cheeks once more, Jim moved the vibrator still held in his hand and pressed it against the outside of his cheek. The vibrations carried through his hot, wet, tight mouth throughout Spock's dick and he groaned again, loudly. Jim returned it, his own cock becoming impossible harder at the sound. Again he traced the vibrator back and forth, repeating the simultaneous sucking motion.

 

“Jim. Jim...”

 

Fucking fuck his voice was so deep, he was probably so close already. For a moment Jim sincerely entertained the idea of continuing his actions, of sucking even harder, of turning the vibe up even higher, and letting Spock come deep down his willing throat.

 

But he wasn't done just yet.

 

Reluctantly, he released Spock's dick with a wet sounding pop, and oh yeah, that was _definitely_ a growl. Tossing his boyfriend an apologetic smile (if not a sympathetic one as well; he was pretty sure by this point he'd be coming the second Spock got his hand on his dick, no lie), Jim gave the head one more happy lick. Sitting up, he put his hands to Spock's chest, raising his eyebrow. Spock apparently approved of this new direction because he lay back immediately and adjusted his legs over Jim's shoulders.

 

Teasingly, Jim ran the tip of the vibrator down Spock's perineum, pressing the edge firmly against the muscle over his prostate. Spock's hips bucked again, a clear insistence, and Jim chuckled.

 

“Impatient Vulcan.”

 

He couldn't see his face, but Jim could feel the glare Spock was giving him. “I feel that I have been patient enough until this point,” he said curtly.

 

“Hmmm...” Jim murmured, tracing Spock's hole with the vibrator. “Are you quite sure about that?” He pressed it against the middle, rubbing against the nerve endings there, poking in just slightly with the corner.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well then. If you're very sure...” Without further ado, Jim licked a thick stripe against his hole and, after sparing a moment to turn the vibrations up, replaced the machine against the underside of Spock's dick. Spock groaned, the sheets shifting as he clutched them tightly in his fists. Rather feeling he'd enjoyed that reaction, Jim licked again, making sure to use as much saliva as possible, wetting around the muscle. Spock was almost shivering at this point, ass twitching at every touch. Deciding he'd waited long enough, Jim speared his tongue deep into Spock's ass, pressing a firm line down Spock's cock.

 

Swirling his tongue around, he mimicked his mouth's movements with the vibrators and speared in again, pressing even further. Spock's moaning was almost continuous now and Jim worked even faster, fucking Spock with his mouth and rubbing the vibrator up and down his dick. The slurping was almost obscene, drops of spit running down Jim's chin and the crack of Spock's ass and still he worked, and fuck, Spock was getting even louder if that was even possible. His hips were moving, fucking himself on Kirk's mouth, pressing his dick up against the vibe. And then Jim placed the vibrator against the head of his dick and fucked his tongue into his ass again, sucking noisily against the muscle of Spock's hole, and Spock was coming, and screaming, whole body tense. He came harder than Jim had seen in a long time (ever?), and still Jim continued to suck, hand clasped tighly around his dick where he held the vibrator there. And then finally, finally, he flopped back, completely spent.

 

Jim smiled, wasting no time in getting his own pants down, trying not to jostle his own dick too much until Spock could at least get a hand on it. Mission achieved, he rearranged Spock's legs and crawled onto the bed to lie against the pillow.

 

Spock, after another moment of befuddlement (had Jim caused that? Really?!), got the message and turned his attention to Jim's neglected dick. A touch would have been enough, really, but Spock was nothing if not thoughtful and immediately Jim found his penis enveloped in an almost burningly hot, wet Vulcan mouth and sucked on, hard, and Jim was coming, too.

 

Relaxing back into the bed in a very self-satisfied haze, Jim grabbed for Spock's shoulders and pulled him up beside him so he could lie on the Vulcan's chest. They didn't cuddle when they went to sleep – Kirk was too restless a sleeper for that, and Spock too hot – but they liked to when they first went to bed, and always after sex. Jim was usually affectionate, but he was especially so in that warm afterglowy period, especially since this was one of the few times Spock would not only tolerate his affectionate gestures but respond in kind.

 

And that was precisely what Spock was doing now when he raised a hand to Kirk's head – just where it had been before, Jim thought with satisfaction – and absent-mindedly threaded his fingers though. It was almost enough to make Jim pur. Sure, in a few minutes they would probably have to get up and clean off, and even now Jim felt slightly sticky, but for now he was content to just lie there.

 

“I thank you, Jim.”

 

Jim snorted. “Yeah, somehow I don't think it's really necessary to thank your boyfriend for having sex with you, but you're welcome?”

 

Spock's hand tapped his head lightly. “That was not what I was referring to. I was speaking of the machine you created, by hand, expressly for my own pleasure.”

 

“Well, it's not like _I'm_ not planning to make use of it, either...”

 

“And yet your first idea was to utilize it on my person and not your own.”

 

“You're assuming I didn't test it out myself before showing you.”

 

“Perhaps. Would I be correct to do so?”

 

Jim paused, curling his hand over Spock's hip, where his heart beat. “You have no idea how many times I had to stop working so I could jerk off. I had it all in my head – knew exactly what I was gonna do to you.”

 

“Did I fulfil your doubtlessly high expectations?”

 

“Fuck yeah.” He pressed a light kiss against Spock's collar. “Yeah, that was so good, baby, so good. I had no idea you'd be so into it! Why'd you never mention this before?”

 

Spock's chest moved as he sighed. “I was not aware myself. I have not had a great deal of experience with this form of pleasure toy.”

 

“Wait.” Jim pushed himself onto his elbows, frowning down at Spock. “So, you've had experience with BDSM, breathplay, telepathic sex, spanking, bondage, and leather – and I'm missing out a lot here – and you've never tried a vibrator before?!”

 

Spock raised his eyebrows. “Is there some form of law that I was not aware of that increasingly unusual or extreme versions of sexual play cannot be performed until all lesser versions have all been sampled?”

 

“No, no. It's just...weird.” Jim paused, then grinned widely. “You know what this means, don't you? I've introduced you to something new! You were totally a vibrator virgin before this, and I've seriously just popped your vibe cherry.”

 

Spock raised his eyebrow. Jim grinned wider.

 

“I kinda like it,” he declared, snuggling into Spock's chest again. “I knew something you didn't, even if I didn't know it.”

 

“You know many things that I do not.”

 

“Well, _another_ thing, then.”

 

“I was speaking sincerely.”

 

Jim traced a circle against Spock's side. “Yeah?”

 

Spock's fingers trailed down to Jim's neck, causing him to jolt slightly at the tickling sensation. “You are not an unintelligent person. In fact, your intellect is well above average for your species; otherwise, you could not have created this machine with such elegance. I do not know why you continue to insist on pretending otherwise. I would not have you as a partner if you were not so.”

 

“Aww, Spock, so you're saying you only like me for my mind?” Jim asked, faux-wounded.

 

“Your exceptional sexual ability is a welcome addition,” he replied seriously, and Jim snorted.

 

“Seriously, though,” Jim said quietly after a moment. “Thanks.”

 

Spock returned to curling his fingers in Jim's hair, apparently satisfied.

 

* * *

 

“Fuck,” Jim breathed. He was going to cry. He was totally going to cry, and then he'd just be standing there in the middle of this sex shop, sobbing, while Spock would be looking around trying to find a partner who wouldn't burst into tears in inappropriate settings. For the sake of his relationship, he would have to hold it in.

 

But even Spock sounded impressed when he replied “Indeed,” so maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

 

It was like paradise, all around them. Everything they could ever possibly need for the next god knew how many months until they returned to Earth. Aisle after aisle positively brimming with all manner of sexual paraphernalia – electroboxes, collars, edible panties, bridles, suspension harnesses, fursuits, body paint, floggers, ticklers, cages, latex bodysuits... it was nothing short of _glorious_.

 

“Okay. So. Candles?” Glancing around, he grabbed a couple of white ones, and then a few coloured ones (red, blue, yellow...) for good luck.

 

“Here is the bondage section,” Spock said from down an aisle.

 

“Good idea. Get some wrist ones ones, and maybe a hogtie?” In the meantime, he wandered further down. “Lingerie! Awesome, awesome...” Finding the men's section, he appropriated various interesting styles, feeling like a kid in a candy store. The costume section was only a little further down, and he took his time through there, too.

 

After a little while Spock reappeared and revealed his takings. “Cool, so, the wrist and ankle ones, a spreader bar, and - ” Jim broke off, gazing up at Spock in adoration. “A gag. A proper ball gag!”

 

Spock looked somewhere between pleased and genuinely affectionate, so Jim revealed the thigh-high leather boots he'd found just earlier and watched Spock's own eyes light up briefly.

 

Jesus christ but he loved this man.

 

“Have you guys got a basket?” he asked the woman at the register, who proceeded to squint at him even deeper in response.

 

“Um, sure...” she murmured, searching their faces. And sure, yeah, they could've been a bit more subtle about this, but even once she did realize who they were, who'd believe her?

 

“And an enema kit!” Jim almost squealed (no he didn't, he – he announced it, that's what he did) when Spock revealed that as well. A multi-use enema kit! That could be cleaned! He'd never have to go back down to sickbay to get more disposable ones ever again! Jim could kiss him. “You do realize that now we have this I'm expecting you to fuck me every night for a week. At least.”

 

“Of course,” Spock replied smoothly, and yeah, this was definitely love he was feeling here.

 

The next aisle over was filled with dildos and vibrators, and after the very enthusiastic reaction the last time he'd presented Spock with a vibrator he had been very much looking forward to this. And why shouldn't he? All the different kinds and shapes and styles...

 

...only Spock didn't look very impressed at all.

 

“What?”

 

Spock glanced up, then back at the internal vibrator he had been holding. “Notice the vibration rate.”

 

“What? I – oh.” Jim frowned. “It only goes that high? Really? Well, maybe there are higher ones...”

 

Only there weren't, or they were but they were too 'buzzy' and not 'thuddy' enough, or the shape was weird. And the more Spock showed him, the more Jim found himself agreeing. These were all just plain not good enough.

 

“Jim,” Spock said eventually, gazing seriously into his boyfriend's eyes.

 

Slowly, Jim nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I could do much better than this...” He bit his lip, running his hands over another machine, a far bigger one that actually fucked you. “This, too. I could _definitely_ make this one.”

 

“Indeed. I do not believe that the design would be too complicated. We would likely be able to purchase all necessary materials from within this town.”

 

Jim shared a glance with Spock. “Well. Guess it's a date, then?”

 

Spock nodded in agreement.

 

Yep, definitely love.


End file.
